Blessing Of Yuri Goddess - Chapter 189 - 18 - My Mother Past

I created a game character.Instead of taking several perks, I added restrictions.▶Restriction (I): “Curse of Sensory Seal”─Permanently seals a chosen sense.─Choice: Sight, Taste, Smell▶Restriction (II): “Curse of Short Life”─You are born with a body doomed to a short life.▶Restriction (III): “Curse of Silence”─Speaking causes you pain.When the next day came, I couldn’t see anything.

Three thousand years of bowing down to the Demon Lord, I would rather be a mortal than a celestial being when looking back, but for her I will… become one who controls life and death!

Chi Xiaochi: fourth-rate citizen at birth, three-time award-winning film emperor, second-rate temper, first-class looks. He crawled his way out of hell on hard mode to become a winner at life.

Then, he was smashed into a vegetative state by a chandelier.

061: Hello, here’s a brief rundown on the scum gong reconditioning system. This system measures the regret level of the scum gong. Every time their regret level reaches one hundred points, you will be able to leave the current world. A friendly tip, usually, through dedication and self-sacrifice, our employees slowly foster a sense of dependency in the scum gongs, gradually making it so the scum gongs can’t live without them.

Chi Xiaochi: How many regret points is a complete loss of reputation and standing worth? How about a fall from grace? Or wanting something but never being able to obtain it?

061: ……

- Description from novelupdates

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”